


Second Chance

by Sparcina



Series: How Frostiron Could Have Started [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, BAMF Clint, BAMF Natasha, BAMF Pepper Potts, Doubtful technology, Everyone is clueless except Natasha, Fighting weird aliens, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Human Loki, Humor, Incest (in a sense), Jealousy, Kissing, Lab obsession, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Post-Iron Man 1, Protective Tony Stark, Reincarnation, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Snarky Jarvis, Teen Hormones, Tender Sex, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Underage Kissing, Underage Sex, baby Loki, no infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9231545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/pseuds/Sparcina
Summary: Tony doesn’t think twice when a baby shows up on the Tower’s doorstep three months after Loki’s 'execution'. Although the new responsibility annoys him to no end, he can't help but fall for those eyes... Eyes of an uncanny green that should, yet shouldn't, remind him of frost and broken glass.Then the kid grows into a man, and Tony’s world spins out of control.Reincarnation AU





	1. An Addition to the Family

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by [Kireastiel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kireastiel/pseuds/Kireastiel). Thank you so much for your hard work and valuable insight!
> 
>  **WARNINGS** : Loki is seventeen when anything really explicit takes place. There will, however, be some form of incest (as in an adoptive son/reincarnation of a God having sex with his adoptive father/former archenemy), so don't read if this is a trigger for you.
> 
> Starts as Stony, becomes Frostiron.

Tony stood in front of the Tower’s main doors, his tuxedo thoroughly soaked, to say nothing of the white tie that didn’t look so white anymore. He could have been on the other side of those very fine doors, dry and ready to attend yet another boring charity gala, but he’d much rather get wet and watch the show. After all, it wasn't every day that he got to see Natasha Romanov holding a cradle.

"What the..." He ran a hand through his hair and somehow forgot about the cold. Was the Black Widow seriously _chirping_  in Russian? It had to be baby talk, because death threats, in Tony’s formidable experience of being kidnapped and tortured, didn’t sound so damn comforting.

Well, he would be damned. Taking a step closer to the duo, he tucked his hands in his pockets and stared some more. The baby’s head peaked from under a pile of wet blankets, stark white against the black fabric. Dark strands of hair lined its delicate skull, and pouty lips parted and closed in silent protestation. Tony pouted in turn. That face wasn't terribly noteworthy... until he got a good look at the eyes. 

They were big and shiny, and of the most stunning shade of green he'd ever seen. 

“Isn’t he the cutest thing?”

Tony knew better than to question Natasha’s sanity at this point–his BDSM kinks really didn’t go that far. “How do you know it’s a boy?” he replied instead.

“Because it’s obvious.” The added _dumbass_ was left unsaid.

Tony pursed his lips. If he wasn’t questioning her sanity, she, on the other hand, was clearly questioning _his_. He stepped back, considering the appeal of going to that charity gala after all. The edge in Natasha's tone had made it clear that the question period was over, for now. If the Black Widow felt the sudden need to answer the call of her biological clock… who was he to deny her?

That didn’t mean he shouldn’t put his foot down. Stealing a last look at the baby, he sighed and rubbed at his temples, feeling the first hints of a headache. Really, what kind of people left their kid to die out in the rain? And what kind of devious, evil people left the cradle at the Avenger Tower’s doorstep?

He needed a drink. Charity gala it was. 

“Your baby,” he said, finger jerking between the two of them. “I don’t want to know about it.”

“Him,” Natasha corrected automatically.

“Fine. Him.”

Tony stalked off to the limousine, hoping fervently that Pepper would let him grab a couple of martinis before the first mandatory–and boring–speech of the night.

**OoO**

Well, the baby was certainly a _he_. Tony learned it the hard way on the next morning, when he offered to change nappies out of the goodness of his heart. Seriously, whatever the tabloids claimed, he could help out a fellow parent when he put his mind to it, and Natasha and Steve certainly looked like they were still on the learning curve.

And yet he hadn’t expected the little creature to pee on his chest, of all things. How naïve of him.

“In what universe does my arc reactor look like a toilet?” Annoyance and disgust crept into his tone. It–he, Tony amended reluctantly–had the gall to laugh in mirth. 

“Aren’t you cute,” he snapped. He wasn’t used to kids. He hadn’t wanted kids. Hell, he didn’t _want_ kids, but what with the whole team, especially Natasha, being in love with the little bastard, he couldn’t very well wash his hands of all responsibilities, at least not if he didn’t wish for a painfully slow death, courtesy of one scary mother.

What if he had to change a couple nappies here and then? Plus, he had more than enough suits for a couple of lifetime; it didn’t matter if he had to go and change. Again.

“What is it? You’re not afraid of me?”

The baby hadn’t reacted to his tone like any sensible being of his height and power should have, instead choosing to babble on further, waving his hands in front of him like he was giving him a lecture. Tony shook his head. There could be worse things, he supposed.

For one, the baby could be a screamer. He had already given Jarvis clear instructions in that case–which amounted to keeping everybody, especially the baby, out of his earring range, by whatever means necessary.

Except that it, he, wasn’t. A screamer, that is. He smiled and made little cute noises. And if he peed on people… well, he could live with it.

Wait a minute, he thought, eyes narrowing to his inner self. Did he just think _cute_ , with a positive connotation?

“Now go and annoy somebody else,” he said sharply, pulling the now clean bundle of babbling awkwardly to his chest and basically running to the common floor.

The baby might or might not have curled his little fists against the arc reactor.

**OoO**

Natasha and Steve were the best at this whole unexpected parenting thing.

Fury was even worse than Tony, which was a little comforting, and a little disturbing as well. The kid was no screamer, no crier, but he still got nervous whenever the director of SHIELD was around: he was less patient, and those big, green eyes of his, that should have belonged in a jewelry museum, got wide and teary. So Tony brought him down into the lab, where he worked on something non explosive while the kid played hide and seek with Dum-E. It had the double advantage to keep the kid happy, and Fury out of his own hair.  

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact time he had gone from rebelling to accepting. A few weeks after the baby had been ‘entrusted’ to their care, he just started to call him ‘the kid’ and got more involved in his life, as if he had only needed a little time to get used to the idea, as if he was the wild fox to the little prince.

If by ‘involved’, he meant dragging the kid to the lab to give him advanced lectures in physics or tell him awfully complex stories about the universe, well… He'd never claimed to be parent material. All in all, he did his damnedest to please that kid he hadn’t wanted, but to whom he felt increasingly drawn.

The eyes. It was the eyes.

**OoO**

“So, what will it be tonight, kiddo?”

The fifteen-month-old tornado of pent-up energy clapped his hands.

“Agaa aga paa!”

Asgard again papa, Tony translated sourly, opening his StarkPad to the reading application they both preferred. These days, there was only one bookmark, and it stood right in the middle of _Asgardian Myths: Everything You Need To Know And A Few Things You Don’t._.

“Here we go, kiddo.” Tony cleared his throat as the kid laid a tiny hand on his hip and stretched his neck to better see the words. He couldn’t read yet, but Tony would get started on that soon enough. “Jormungand, the Snake of Midgard, was one of Loki’s numerous children. It was so big he could encircle Earth with his whole body…”

He used to be annoyed at reading this book. Of all the stories that interested the kid, it had to be that one about the infamous God of Mischief.

The fucker who had thrown his through a window–even after Tony had offered him a drink.

The fucker who had led multiple invasions to his planet, who had threatened to kill most of his friends.

But he couldn’t hold it against the kid, not really. Plus, the god was dead, once and for all. If Thor’s sad expression and beaten-puppy look whenever he visited was anything to go by, the God of Mischief was very, very dead indeed, and would stay so for the eternity to come.  

Tony had always suspected there had been something vaguely incestuous about Thor’s affection for his adopted brother, but he knew better than to ask. Not that Thor volunteered a lot of information nowadays. He had become quite good at repeating Odin’s last words to Loki, though. Between numerous pints of beer.

“I shall end your existence in this world, for you have proved unworthy of it. Farewell, my son.”

Tony closed the reading application. The kid had fallen asleep against his side. Saliva drooled down his chin, a few drops already darkening Tony’s trousers. He sighed, wanting to be annoyed and disgusted but only managing a meaningless grunt.

“It’s better for everyone,” he said out loud. “Now to bed with you, kiddo.” He brought the little bundle of covers and baby to Steve, who was pacing the kitchen one floor below with an expression who would have put to shame most mother hens.

“Relax, Spangle, I’ve got it.” And he kissed Steve on the cheek, because he could, and because Steve got always so distracted and accepting whenever he held the kid.

And he didn’t seem to mind the kiss. No, kisses. Plural.

“Good night, Steevie.”

The Captain didn’t raise his head, but a faint blush colored his cheeks.

“Good night, Tony.”

In the corridor, Tony raised a balled fist in victory.

**OoO**

The kid was two years old the first time he walked on his own. Somehow late according to the manuals, but the kid could very well start to walk whenever the fuck he wanted to, at least according to Tony. Beside, the kid had successfully learned months ago to use all the letters of the English alphabet–and a few of the Russian one too, apparently, albeit Tony couldn’t attest to that.

Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Steve and he stood in various expectant positions about the living room, watching the kid letting go of the wall and padding to the middle of the room. He was so hesitant, and so very determined, that everybody grinned madly, even Black Widow.

Tony shivered. “Here you go, kiddo!”

The kid stared at him with those huge, emerald eyes. Then he fell in a graceless tangle of limbs. He didn’t cry–he never did–but he looked pointedly at Tony with something like accusation, and indulgence. Tony’s breath hitched. There were times when the kid struck him as much older than the two years they had just celebrated.

“You distracted him, Tony,” Steve chided beside him. “He was doing well before you intervened.”

Tony shrugged. “Yes, I’m at fault. What are you going to do about that, hmm?”

Steve rolled his eyes and smiled encouragingly at the kid–Tony still counted that as a victory.

The kid got up on his feet and swayed, eyes searching the room for the support his hand missed.

“приходи сюда, любовь моя,” Natasha cooed.

Of course, Tony didn’t understand shit. Clint arched an eyebrow, though. Being Natasha’s lover, he probably got the meaning of those words way better then Tony could ever hope to.

“Why don’t you ever call me that?” he protested.

Natasha ignored him and opened her arms, not quite smiling, but not quite frowning either, as the giggling two-year-old ran to her. Even after all this time, Tony couldn’t quite believe it when he saw Natasha act so very… human. Before the kid showed up in their lives, she had been Death itself waiting to happen. To him. Often.

Bruce cocked his head to the side. Sitting comfortably on one of the sofas with Clint, he held an energy bar halfway to his lips. Clint snatched it away and got no reaction.

“Don’t you think it is due time he got a name?”

Their kid was brilliant; he turned his head in Bruce’s direction and arched a delicate, black eyebrow, as if he knew they spoke about him and requested his opinion on the matter. Tony felt his heart flutter for no reason he could explain as the kid’s eyes traveled to him. Stayed there.

“Loki,” he said in his high-pitched voice.

They all stared at each other. Tony opened his mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again, hoping he hadn’t lost his ability to use words in the English language. Noun. Verb. Period. He should manage, if only his brain would kindly reboot.

“Kiddo.” That was a start, he encouraged himself. He took a step towards the kid, holding on to his fleeting courage–he was the one with explanations, after all. “I know you like those stories, but we can’t just name you after one maniac bast-”

“Tony!”

Tony sent an apologetic smile to Steve. Bruce didn’t seem much more at ease. Only Natasha looked as unfazed as ever.

“What you mean, papa?”

He called them all papa or mama, but Tony liked to think he had been the first one to get the privilege. After all, he told the best stories and gave the best toys.

He bent a knee to be at the kid’s level.

“Loki… It’s a name we don’t associate with good memories,” he said simply. “I’m sorry. Plus, when you will go to school, all the kids will make fun of you. We don’t want that, now, do we?”

The kid frowned. “So I not be Loki because you not like me?”

Tony resigned himself to the inevitable. Wasn’t the God of Mischief dead anyway? If their kid had a thing for Norse mythology… He sent an askance glance at Natasha. She nodded minutely.

“All right, kiddo. But don’t start planning to take over the world, ok?”


	2. Ignorance Is Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, another update in the same week... didn't think I would manage it! Let me know what you think, if you wish. This chapter is heading straight for StonyLand, but it will move to Frostiron by the second half of the fic. Enjoy!

“What the hell?”

Tony plucked the arc reactor out of his chest and stared at the glowing device. His private and moody at-home doctor had informed him that something was wrong with it, or rather, that it wrought havoc with the normal chemistry of his body. His cells were dividing slower than they should have been, but he–Bruce, the aforementioned doctor–couldn’t explain why. Tony ran a hand through his messy hair. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept.

“Do speak your mind, JARVIS. I can hear you think, and it smells like something Dum-E ought to take care of.” 

He threw the arc reactor a few feet into the air, then caught it back. The fact that Bruce couldn’t give him a reason for the abnormal readings didn’t mean there wasn't one. As a matter of fact,  _he'_ d had a breakthrough this very morning and couldn’t wait to share it with a fellow physicist. Surely Bruce would de-Hulk in a couple of hours? If not...

“Every scan seems to confirm your hypothesis, Sir,” the AI replied at last. “And yet I wish I’ve had the foresight to run more tests on you back then.”

“You mean when I switched from a Palladium to a Vibranium core?”

Tony inserted the arc reactor back into his chest, hissing as the cold metal slid back into place. It felt a little funny. Well, the whole situation was funny as hell, but this... He didn't think he would ever get used to the feeling of prodding into his own chest. Survival instinct and all. 

"Jarvis? You still with me?"

The AI sounded more than a little worried. “The shield you made for Mr. Rogers didn’t exhibit these properties, Sir. Maybe Vibranium has to be inserted into the body first. There’s also the possibility that the Chitauri Scepter provoked that reaction when it touched your chest.”

 “Or I might have eaten a golden apple of Idunn by mistake.” Tony sighed. “Seriously, Jarvis. I thought I’ve made myself clear when I told you I didn’t want to talk about that _other_ Loki?”

There was pain in the AI’s voice. “I was merely concerned for your well-being, Sir. May I remind you that you made me this way so that someone would care?”

“Sassy, Jarv." Tony grinned. Too much coffee, like usual. He shot a glance at the tall and muscular man, his wet dream, standing outside the lab. "You’re right, of course, but now I’m more concerned about the man standing over there. Kindly let the good Captain in, please.”

It wasn't that Steve didn't know the password to his lab. But after the little text Tony had sent him earlier, it was a miracle he'd showed up at all.

Would he? Would he not?

Tony exhaled in relief as the doors slid open. He pressed his lips shut before he could say something he would regret later on, like how damn cute Steve looked, fidgeting like a teenager on his first date. But it was hard to keep silent, when the other man was walking towards him with such wide eyes.

It wasn’t the only thing that was hard.

For once, he didn’t find himself funny. Groaning and squirming, he did his best to convince his arousal to recede while extracting himself from the mess that was his main work station.

The kiss planted on his jaw was much too close to his lips to be considered polite.

“Tony…”

“Yes?”

He cradled Steve’s face, forcing those blue eyes to finally acknowledge everything he wasn’t putting into words. They were gorgeous, those eyes. Not as gorgeous as their kid’s, sure, but Loki-of-the-Avengers, as opposed to Loki-the-evil-bastard-of-Asgard, outshone the very universe with his inner wits and purity.

Right. Back to Steve now. Steve who had come all the way down to his lab because Tony had thought it was a good idea to text him how exactly he planned to kiss him senseless.

“Lost your tongue, cupcake?”

Tony rose on his tiptoes. His tongue darted out to gently trace Steve’s lower lip. The other man shivered against him, eyelids fluttering. When no protest came forth, Tony pressed his mouth to his and started to work his lips against him, more gentle than he had ever been with a lover before.

He thought about how his life was getting better every day. Maybe he ought to thank the kid, later, for his place in their life. For bringing Steve and him together. To this day, it was still unclear why Natasha, of all people, had decided to take in the orphan, but Tony tried hard not to question the mysteries of life too much, especially when they suited him.

He licked at Steve’s lower lip, savoring the taste of coffee and… alcohol? Steve didn’t drink, not if he could help it. Tony thought about how Steve must have been so nervous that he had brought out the brandy, how arousing that display of courage turned out to be.

Steve was such a bad boy.

Steve’s sudden intake of breath, and fantastic blush, informed him that he had been thinking out loud once again.

“Tony…” Steve’s voice had dropped down a few octaves, much to Tony’s satisfaction. He didn’t fight the urge to run his hands across Steve’s chest. A breathy sigh rewarded his impatience.

“What’s the matter? Tell me everything,” he crooned with a smile.

Before Steve could completely turn his head away, Tony captured his mouth once again and licked into it, bypassing any intermediary steps he might have. He wasn’t a patient man, and when he wanted, he _wanted_.

Plus, Steve was more than strong enough to push him away if he so wished. Whilst Natasha’s anger didn’t rate high in the list of things which turned Tony on, the prospect on being on the receiving end of Steve’s formidable muscles–and loss of control–made his inner self giggle in anticipation.

“Tony.” Steve spoke against his lips. There was laugher in his voice as well as affectionate exasperation. Tony sank his nails into Steve’s shirt, making the other’s breath hitch. “Loki’s waiting for his bedtime story, you know.”

“Fuck Loki.”

“Tony!”

“Yes, sure, mom, whatever you want.”

Tony wasn’t really angry at the kid. There had to be other people in the Tower who thought of mundane matters such as a bedtime. Not having any regular sleeping schedule, he didn't bother wondering if the kid should be awake or asleep. To him, it was fine either way.

First things first, though.

“Tony!”  
He grinned fiercely. Steve’s hips bucked forwards into his hand. His cock was every inch as big as Tony had expected, and hard enough to cut metal. He wanted to ride that cock, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to wait for Steve to loosen him up first.

He would prefer by far to suck on his fingers, choke on them, while the hard length of his pressed between his cheeks. He would urge Steve to force his way into him, to pound and thrust and fuck him into the mattress, to stuff his roughened ass with his load, hot, he would…

Rectification: he was sure he _couldn’t_ wait.

He cleared his throat and let go–against his will, that’s for sure–of Steve’s cock.

“Let’s read more stuff about Jotunheim,” he said in a tone that implied very differently.

“Jotun-what?”

Tony purred. “I’ll give you a crash course… eventually.”

Steve probably had something more to say, but Tony was too busy plundering the other’s mouth with his tongue to bother with anything else at the time. ~~~~

**OoO**

_One year later._

Tony and Steve lay side by side. Steve had a hand splayed over Tony’s hip, fingers still coated with the lube he had used to finger his lover. Tony brushed Steve’s jaw with his thumb, stupidly giddy as the aftereffects of a mind-blowing orgasm still pounded through his sated body. He didn’t care if Steve’s seed leaked between his thighs. He was in bed with him, thoroughly fucked, and would start all over again if it wasn’t for the fact that _his_ body couldn’t produce erections on command.

“You’re ok?”

Steve looked thoughtful. In Tony’s experience, whilst it could be nothing, sometimes Steve waited way too long before admitting out loud what could simplify both their lives.

“Are you happy, Tony?”

Tony arched an eyebrow. Well, that certainly wasn’t what he’d expected.

“What do you mean?” He rolled on his side, trailing a finger down a muscular chest. “I have you in my bed and in my life, the guy who defenestrated me is dead, and we are raising a child together. With the rest of team, but still… Steve,” he added more seriously, kissing him lightly with his already bruised lips. “I am happy. Really.”

Steve closed his eyes. “I am very happy too.”

They fell asleep soon after that.

Tony woke up with Steve’s hardened length pressing at his hole. His lover was still asleep, but he clearly wanted in, so Tony rutted back against him until he heard little gasps and groans from behind. Then Steve’s left hand closed on his hip with enough force to bruise–not that Tony minded–and that cock he so loved to suck breached his entrance. He shivered in delight, arching his back. Steve caught his lower lip between his own and began to suck.

The door burst open. “Papa, I was wondering if...”

“Loki!”

Steve quickly untangled himself from Tony. Under any other circumstances, Tony would have been hurt at how quick he was turned away. He rushed to cover their bodies with the already sweat-soaked sheet and tried not to blush as their kid stared at them with his mouth open.

Loki blushed. Tony found it equally endearing and unnerving. He had, after all, been caught in the act by their four-year-old kid. No doubt Natasha would corner him about that tomorrow, if she didn’t come and slit his throat in his sleep later on tonight.

“I… I…”

Steve cleared his throat.

“Was there something you needed, Loki?”

Loki violently shook his head and bolted out of the room. 

Steve sighed, massaging his temples. “Well, that was… not an experience I wanted for him.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Tony said, unconcerned, “I’ve found my parents in explicit situations more than once and I haven’t gone crazy over it.” ~~~~

“We are not talking about you here, Tony.”

A frown. Tony could do frowns too.

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Natasha didn’t kill him that night, or the one after. Tony supposed he owed her one, even if he was sure the kid hadn’t been as traumatized as Steve claimed.

**OoO**

Loki grew faster than they all anticipated. By the age of five, he was a half-head taller than most kids his age, and also way more practiced in various aspects of intellectual academia.

He spoke English and Russian fluently and could write and read in both. On the evenings he practiced reading, he sat by one of the tall windows on Tony and Steve’s floor reading under natural light until the sun set, and sometimes a while after, until one of his _papas_ came and chided him for tiring his eyes. Mostly Steve, really; Tony would just sit beside Loki and ask about what he was reading.

The kid’s eyes didn’t lose their incredible color over time; if anything, they enthralled Tony more every year. He seemed to like his jet-black hair long, so they hadn’t cut it–except Pepper, once or twice, arguing gently that the ends needed tending.

He mostly wore dark, silver and green clothes. If _that_ reminded Tony of the other Loki, he quickly casted those thoughts out of his mind and worked hard to associate the colors with his kid. So, what if their little one had a thing for mythology? He was sweet, curious, brilliant, and oddly affectionate with the two persons who had the highest kill-count among them all. Sometimes, Tony wondered if it was a coincidence.

He spotted Loki sitting awkwardly by a window, fascinated by whatever it was that he was reading.

Tony closed his StarkPad and threw blindly in the direction of a table. This kid acted like a magnet for Tony’s attention. He had invented more kid toys in the last three years than he had ever created in his whole entire life. 

“Papa.” Loki sounded pleased. Like usual, he had wild strands of hair across his face.

Tony crossed the living room, where Steve lay sprawled on a sofa, and kissed the soldier’s brow before going over to Loki.

“You want to show me what you are reading?”

Loki shook his head. The setting sun spun dark lines across his smooth face. Not for the first time, Tony got the impression that their kid was much older than he looked. He tucked one of those wayward strands of black ink behind an ear. Loki’s smile got brighter, and Tony had to smile in turn. Loki just had this effect on him.

“I had a question.”

“Go ahead, kiddo.”

Loki bit down his lip, making Tony fight the urge to hold him to his chest.

“I wanted to know where I come from?”

Well… What could he say to that? He wasn’t ready for that conversation, but they had always expected Loki to ask, and if today was the day…

“You were born to all of us,” he said finally. “We are your family, and that’s the only thing that matters, ok?”

As logical explanations went, this one sucked, but Loki just nodded, as if he’d expected Tony to bullshit him all along. He’d probably known of his adoption for years now.

“I like the idea.”

And he went on reading, still smiling. Tony sat down on the floor and threw an arm across his shoulders, staring at the glowing city in the darkness.

**OoO**

By the age of ten, Loki had gone through primary school and aced all of his classes. Not that they were very difficult, Tony considered, staring at the math homework book Loki had filled with side notes all over the year. To say that he was pleased that his child, their child, was such a clever boy, would be an understatement. Bruce, Pepper, Natasha, Clint, Steve and he made sure to reward him on a regular basis. They would probably have done the same if Loki had failed his class, but still.  

Thirty minutes before Loki was expected to come back to the Tower for a little celebration, Tony caught Steve napping in his lab. It would really have been a shame to leave his lover unattended while he was so obviously waiting for Tony, so he knelt by the hard bed and reached past the other’s waistband. He freed a flaccid, but nonetheless beautiful cock, and sucked at the head, licking the slit with the flat of his tongue. Steve woke up in no time, and was presented by an image of Tony deep-throating him.

It was all very pleasant until the door slammed open.

Damn that update, Tony thought sourly, missing the warning from Jarvis. He let go of Steve’s cock with a wet _pop_ and turned around, effectively shielding Steve’s arousal from view.

It was Loki, cheeks red from running, and presumably from having caught them. Again. At least, the kid didn’t look like he was going to have a panic attack, or throw up, or any mixture of the two. ~~~~

“You saw nothing,” Tony said in a light tone, and Loki nodded, eyes widening still. “Go up to Clint and Natasha’s floor, we’ll follow shortly.”

Loki averted his eyes when Tony joined the others a few minutes later. Tony sighed inwardly.

It would pass.

**OoO**

This couldn’t be happening.

“Goddamn it! Fuck, fuck, fuck! How could I be so blind, how fucking idiotic-”

“Calm down, Tony, you aren’t-”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down, both of you! How can _you_ be so damn calm about this?!”

Tony didn’t stop pacing as he snarled at Steve. He couldn’t stop moving, feeling like he would implode on the spot if he did.  He managed to point an accusatory finger at Steve, who stood by Natasha’s side. They both wore the same blank expression, as if they had known all along, as if he had been the only one _stupid enough_ to miss the Asgardian elephant in the room.

He wanted to shoot himself. He wanted to scream. He wanted to go down that corridor and barge into a fourteen-year-old’s room, and straddle him, and close his hands around a very delicate, white neck, and squeeze hard, harder…

Tony turned around sharply, bringing his fist to his mouth to stifle a scream. He had to calm himself. They were right. And he couldn’t think like that, not of his own son.

Even if it was much more complicated than that.

Focus, he told himself, focus, Stark.

Steve licked his lips and took a hesitant step toward him, arms outstretched as if to better convey his argument.

“They look alike, I will grant you that, Tony. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

Tony had meant to speak like a mature adult, quietly. But Natasha just stared at him, and his self-control snapped all over again. When he opened his mouth, he roared.

“Tell that to her!”

Natasha pursed her lips. She didn’t like to be pointed at, Tony remembered an instant too late. He let his hand fall to his side and balled it in a fist instead.

“You knew from the start, didn’t you?” When she didn’t reply immediately, he shouted again. “ _Didn’t you?!_ ”

Natasha looked like she might pin him to the wall with her knives and open a hole in his chest, and not for an arc reactor.

“I suspected.”

“And why, pray tell, didn’t you say anything?” He waved a hand dismissively, deflating at once. “I should have known.”

No answer.

“The resemblance is too eerie for it to be a simple coincidence. This is the Lok-”

Thor chose this moment to appear in the room. Light bulbs flashed in the living room. It had been too many years since his last visit, and Tony didn’t have to guess as to the purpose of his brusque return to the Tower.

He wanted to shoot himself, again. Preferably in the head. Especially when Thor turned towards him, all grave and serious.

Perfect. Just perfect, he thought. Another one who knew.

He exploded. The god of thunder raised a placating hand and talked, or at least tried to, over Tony. “My friends, I come bearing news-”

“Yes, we know that,” Tony snapped. God, he needed a drink; not to shoot himself. Alcohol felt good. Yes, alcohol. And no, no god. Never again would he use that word in a sentence.

He just needed a mother-fucking drink. To forget that Loki-of-the-Avengers was also Loki-the-evil-bastard-of-Asgard. They were one and the same, and yet weren’t.

This was fucked up. ~~~~

“You’ve come to tell us that the kid we took in almost eleven years ago and raised is the reincarnation of your brother.” When Thor didn’t reply, Tony drove an angry finger to his chest, not caring if he hurt himself in the process. “ _Right_?”

It only went downhill from here. Tony had thought he had been over Loki-the-evil-bastard-of-Asgard’s treatment of him, but that whole conversation just highlighted how deep a wound he still carried. God, did it hurt. That deception hurt, because he genuinely liked… loved, their witty little boy. And he couldn’t reconcile the idea that his son was also the maniac who had tried to end his life, multiple times.

 _Damn it_. He wanted to stop saying, thinking that word. God. His son wasn’t a god. His son wasn’t a god. He wasn’t, because if he was, Tony couldn’t…

He pressed his forehead to the wall. The taste of alcohol in his mouth didn’t quite keep the bile at bay. Thor’s words spun in his head, hitting at his temples like tiny little fists.

“When Odin said that he would end my brother’s existence into this world, I thought he meant to kill him.”

It hurt so much, but somehow he still managed to speak.

“Well, that sets a whole new level of misunderstanding.”

The glass he squatted to grab exploded against the opposite wall. The shards he walked on hurt, too. They balanced the unease bleeding through his heart. 

“Tony, wait!”

“Let him go, Steve.”

Tony locked himself into the first empty room he found and sank to the floor, chest heaving. His hands shook, and his eyesight was blurry at the edges, as if tears reenacted the rain of that first day, on the Tower’s doorstep. Soon, it was his whole body that shook, from anger and disappointment and love.

Ignorance was bliss.


	3. Kisses in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update! You can blame:  
> 1) Sickness;  
> 2) Uninteresting (but obligatory) writing.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> On a side note, this is not an incest fic: Loki-of-the-Avengers is Tony's adoptive son. I wanted to explore how Tony and Loki could develop a romantic relationship if Loki was not obsessed with the destruction of the universe. There is some underage kissing, though (Loki is fifteen).

One week. That was the time it took Tony before he could bring himself to look at his son again. His adopted son. Loki-the-evil-bastard-of-Asgard who had somehow died and came back as Loki-of-the-Avengers.

No wonder the kid had taken a liking to tales of Jormungand, Tony thought sourly, discarding another tool in his lab. Dum-E beeped mournfully, trailing after the thrown wrench with a familiarity that tugged at something decidedly ignored in Tony’s chest.  

For all the deception surrounding the kid’s origin, he was now very human. Loki-the-evil-bastard-of-Asgard had always acted as if he owned the world. Time and time again, he promised their suffering, and his hands made good on that threat. He hadn’t respected life or loved.

Loki… Loki-of-the-Avengers was human in every way that mattered.

He learned about the world through books and movies because it interested him.

He asked silly questions and other more serious ones, and listened raptly to the answers.

He lost his first phone and burnt his first omelet because he wasn’t perfect. He was human, like them. _Like us,_ Tony repeated to himself.

The unease in his belly grew. Another wrench joined the first and a metallic noise hinted at an unintended target.

“Sorry, Dum-E.”

Human.

**OoO**

He felt so conflicted the first time that he didn’t trust himself to talk. He just hugged Loki as fiercely as he could, before promptly disappearing into his lab, thinking of books and windows and the fucking irony of the universe. _Universes_ , plural.

That night, Loki cried himself to sleep. Tony only found out because Steve told him. The guilty trip that followed wasn’t pleasant in the slightest

“You’re hurting yourself, and you’re hurting him,” Steve insisted.

Fucking irony.

They didn’t have sex that night, and Loki stayed in his room, brooding and tearing a pillow into pieces. The next morning, Tony watched the footage with Jarvis, cradling his cup of coffee like a lifeline. It tasted like shit, which was weird, because he could have sworn he owned a ridiculously priced barista machine.

Loki, his son, was human. He loved him.

He really did, damn it. Damn him.

The coffee remained on the counter, cold and forgotten.

**OoO**

Just like Loki went swiftly through primary school, he aced all his classes in high school,  going as far as skipping a couple of years. He studied hard, even if most of the time it was advanced books he brought from the Tower and not the actual school manuals.

Pepper sometimes dropped him back to the Tower after class. Tony ended up having to tell her about the whole Loki-reincarnation business, because Pepper had shot him _that_ look that made him feel like his cock had found a way to hide inside his body.

She usually respected his privacy, sure. However, the kid was her business as well, so he owed her the truth.

She reacted pretty well, everything considered: she only slapped him once. Tony decided it was a major improvement in the talking-with-Pepper department, and since he was apparently on a roll, he admitted to the unexpected effect of the Vibranium core as well.

Pepper’s jaw dropped to the floor. Silly Pepper. It was a dirty floor.

“What?” Tony slammed down a command on the keyboard. Dum-E started circling around his desk with clear digital distress. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, happy that I won’t die next year?”

Pepper’s eyebrows narrowed dangerously.

“You wouldn’t die next year, or the one after that, if you didn’t live that kind of lifestyle, Tony.”

Oh, her favorite argument. Tony threw a chunk of Iridium at Dum-E and looked fondly at him as he circled the desk to go and retrieve it. Now that things were back to being good between Loki and him, the little game of fetch didn’t pain him anymore.

At some point, he remembered that Pepper was still there, glaring at him.

“Right, lifestyle. Well, I save the world, Pep, you know that.” More throwing and fetching. “And I’m not sorry about that. Sorry.”

“You know perfectly well that’s not what I mean. Tony.”

 _Oh_. “Are you…” He trailed off and grabbed the cup of cold coffee Steve had brought for him hears ago. It tasted like eons old, not hours. What was wrong with his coffee maker exactly? “… I don’t know, afraid that I’m going to be more careless than ever, now that I’ve got a Vibranium-powered arc reactor that slows my aging?”

Pepper’s high heels clicked on the floor. “Maybe.”

“Don’t be coy.” Tony shook his head and examined at his own naked feet. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I know I’ve been a pain in the ass for the last couple of…”

“… decades?”

Tony pouted. “I was going to say ‘weeks’, but have it your way.”

“Oh, Tony… Come here, will you?”

She pulled on his wrist and held him close to her chest. Pepper’s hugs didn’t have the calming effect they used to, but they still grounded him.

**OoO**

Tony remembered the ball at the end of high school fondly. So when Loki came and told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t going, Tony asked him why.

“You know I haven’t made a lot of friends,” his fifteen-year-old son replied wryly. “I don’t feel like drinking and dancing with people I don’t like.”

Tony let go of the blueprints he had been studying and looked at the kid. Not so much a kid anymore, he mused. Long, jet black hair. Slim and yet strongly built, with narrow shoulders and long fingers that eased his way through piano partitions. He played beautifully.

As for those fascinating green eyes… Tony twisted the blueprints in one fist, unsure why he felt so conflicted all of a sudden. He dismissed the issue instantly.

Things were looking up again. Everything was fine.

And wasn’t that complete bullshit.

“Look, if…”

Loki interrupted him with a pained look. “I have no one to go with, and even if I did…” He tucked a wayward strand of black hair behind an ear and licked his lips.

Tony let go of the blueprints. Damaged material meant more work, and he had enough on his plate as it was.

No one to go with? Seriously? He didn’t know how to voice his incredulity. He knew that Loki hadn’t found a girlfriend yet, but damn, his son was bright, handsome, and very capable, at an age most young men only knew how to jerk off. Tony was very proud of him. The days when he had tried to keep that young man at arm’s length because of his eerie resemblance to a dead god were long past.

“Hey.” He shot to his feet and walked to Loki, cradling one bony hand between his own. Loki had always felt cold, but Tony didn’t hold it against him anymore. “If you really don’t want to go, that’s fine with all of us. We can do something else to celebrate.”

That was what Loki had been waiting for all along: his approval. Tony cupped his pointy chin and kissed him on one cheek, smiling back at him.

Loki made a quick exit after that. Which had Tony worried, but apparently his son was just having a very good time playing video games with Clint and Bruce five minutes later, so he shrugged it off and got back to work.

He might– _might_ –have been slightly worried that the new prototype of Iron Man he had been working on turned out emerald green that night.

**OoO**

“How does it feel to kiss a man?”

Loki had joined him for breakfast, quieter than usual. Tony had made them pancakes from Steve’s recipe book and waited patiently for Loki to spill the beans. His son knew how to bide his time, and Tony had learned it was best to let him. Being teenager was a pain in the ass. As for kissing…

He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Kissing. The last time he had kissed anybody himself–i.e. Steve–went back to a few months. He licked his lips and handed Loki the maple syrup, because that fitted perfectly with pancakes, and it gave his hands something do to apart from twisting each other into a bundle.

“So, kissing guys, hum?”

And wasn’t that an awkward conversation to have with one’s kid. His own father had been an asshole about the _talk_ , so he would be damn if he made the same mistake. He would be kind. He wouldn’t run away.

But he really, really wanted to.

Words, he chided himself silently. Talk, Stark.

“Hm… Does that mean you like guys, but not girls?” he asked, and hurriedly added, “not that it matters if you do. You can like boys, or girls, or both, or none, and that’s perfectly all right, despite what the other kids say. Trust me, we will all still love you.”

“Even you?”

Tony snorted. “Especially me. Have you forgotten all those times you’ve caught me with Steve?”

Tony thought back to all the pictures he had of Loki on his computer, and how awful it was that none of them depicted that beautiful blush of his. Loki blushed beautifully. Through the years, his lips had kept their redness and gotten even fuller. He would probably be one hell of a kisser, once he found the right partner to share the experience with. 

Tony cleared his throat. He got the weirdest thoughts early in the morning.

“So, you wanted to know about kisses, right? Have you tried yet?”

Loki’s reply was breathy, but assured. “No. I’m waiting for the right person.”

He stared at Tony while saying that, with an unnerving firm, determined look in his eyes that made Tony feel funny all over. Nope, he wasn’t cut for this conversation. He wasn’t. He thought about speed-dialing Steve, but before he could act like the coward he was, Loki smiled one of his sweet smiles and took another pancake, which he covered generously in maple syrup. He looked oddly satisfied for the rest of their meal.

**OoO**

Then _that_ happened.

Tony had been lounging in the common area, resting after a hectic two weeks of battling grumpy, invasion-prone aliens and going over twenty versions of a deal Pepper had convinced him would be in his best interest. So he had bent his back for green guys with bad mouth-hygiene habits and a dominatrix in pointy heels, had wasted a whole suit and couldn’t care less if the Tower suddenly collapsed. He was _done_.

Hence the lounging. Tony dragged a lazy finger on the screen of his tablet, reading further on the subject of quantum communications. Bruce had often told him that physics was not an acceptable resting subject, but Tony just tended to go over his work in the lab if he read anything less complex.

Unless he was in Loki’s company.

He sighed and laid back the tablet on the nearby table. He could sleep. Probably. If he tried hard enough. And Pepper could always try to wake him up with a bucket of cold water.

He must have dozed off at some point, for he was brusquely brought back to consciousness with a kiss.

And not just any kiss. His heart tried to tear itself against the arc reactor as a soft, hesitant, but oh so tasteful mouth brushed again his. The kiss was given in silence, with only the faintest rustling of clothes alerting him to another presence.

That and the kiss, of course. That mouth must have hovered quite a while before settling on his, for the kiss spoke of learning and doubt. It also gave away a great deal of want that shot straight to Tony’s groin. Without opening his eyes, without thinking–he wasn’t completely awake yet–he caught the bottom lip between his own and softly sucked on it. The resulting gasp called to his greed.

God, did those lips taste good… He arched his back, seeking warmth into the other’s mouth. Darting his tongue, he commanded submission, and almost instantly lost himself into the maddening heat. Fuck, fuck, he wanted this, right fucking now. A growl left his chest.  

The shy tongue tried to dance around his, but Tony was of a directing mind and caught it between his teeth. Gentle but firm, and so desperately needy, he wrapped his lips around it and sucked, savoring little noises of surrender. He had been hard from the first hint of breath against his lips, and now he wanted to rut against that male presence, claim him, dominate. He reached for his pants, palming blindly at his throbbing cock. If he could just get _out_ of those infuriating jeans, and _in_ that fine little ass his other hand discovered through pajama bottoms... 

Wait. He had gone to sleep on his couch. Alone. 

He opened his eyes and thought he was up for a heart attack, because that was not Steve, or another declination of blond, strong male staring down at him with those incredible green eyes. The mouth he was currently kissing–the mouth he had been plundering with enough passion to bruise–belonged to Loki.

Loki had kissed him. And he had kissed him back. He considered defenestrating himself, but opted for the second best option; scooting back and asking questions.

“What the hell, kid?”

Loki tried to keep a straight face, even though the confidence was all a show by then. “I’ve kissed you,” he said in a tight voice. “Wasn’t it good?”

Tony opened his mouth. Closed it. Wished for a bucket of cold water. Guilt, wariness, fury and pleasure coursed through his system, requesting too many different outputs for him to do anything more than stare and swallow. If he had been a computer, he would have shut down.

Loki had kissed him. He had kissed Loki. No, that wasn’t happening; that _couldn’t_ be happening. Mostly because Loki was his _son_ , adopted son, sure, but Natasha might not make the distinction... 

Plus, he was fifteen. Fifteen, and incredibly naïve, no matter how intelligent.

At this point, he wasn’t sure who would kill him first.

Water, window… So much variety, so little time. If only those supple lips hadn’t been so damn pleasant. The yearning in his chest, his throbbing cock…

You don’t get to think about that, oh no, you don’t! He steeled himself and patted a place on the sofa. He could do this. He had to.

“Sit, will you?”

Reluctantly and somewhat eagerly–Tony had no clue how someone could pull that off–, Loki circled the sofa and came to sit where he had been instructed. He took great pains to avoid his gaze, Tony noted. Hands clasped on his thighs, back straight and shoulders tense, he waited.

Tony waited, too. He wished he had been prepared for that kind of situation. But then Loki had always had a gift for unpredictability.

“So…” God, that was _so_ awkward. “What was that about, Loki?”

The tingling of his lips didn’t help. Loki briefly licked his own defiantly, which only served to distract him further. Maybe he was still dreaming? A quick and painful pinch gave him the necessary punch to the guts.

“Hey, Loki… Look at me.”

Emerald eyes settled on his mouth. Tony felt hot all over. Those eyes were shining with tears, and Tony just wanted to hug him, but he couldn't, because then he would want to kiss him all over again and that was so very _bad_. His life had been complicated before, but this was getting ridiculous.

“I just wanted to kiss you,” Loki said in a small voice.

Well, duh. Tony tried to keep a straight face, free of judgment and problematic emotions. He didn’t want to kiss Loki. He didn’t. He didn’t, didn’t, didn’t…

Why the hell did he want to kiss Loki?

“I’m sorry.” The words had barely left his lips that he fled the room.  

Loki stayed behind, eyes bright with the stars missing from the sky.


	4. Changes and Loops

The night of his sixteenth birthday party downtown, Loki came back at two in the morning and went straight to Tony’s lab.

“Hey!”

Tony looked up from the gauntlet he had been busy repairing and offered the young man a smile he hoped looked genuine.

It had been two weeks since the kiss. Two weeks of sleepless nights and explosions in his workshop, two weeks of not answering his phone. Pepper had come down to harass him twice, and he knew damn well, with the same certainty he could feel how _wrong_ that kiss had been, that Pepper sensed something was amiss. However, Pepper was nothing if not absolutely wonderful, so she’d kept her mouth such and shoved under his nose a stack of digital documents to sign.

Adopting Loki had been the best move in his life of debauchery and irresponsibility–naming Pepper CEO of SI was a close second.  

Tony dropped the gauntlet on the table before directing a second smile to Loki. “Hey, you.”

God, this son of them was so beautiful. If the emerald eyes, the delicate planes of his face and the slim built alone had drawn his eye, he could have turned his mind elsewhere and found a suitable body to pound into–yes, Stark, _suitable_. The thing was, there was intelligence shining in those eyes, and the dry wit gracing most of their conversations made it obvious that the only body he would ever want to…

No, no, no, he chanted to himself.  

“What are you working on?” Loki slowly made his way forwards, eyes narrowing in interest as he saw the gauntlet. Tony turned it around, a proud yet brittle smile plastered on his sweaty face.

“That would be an improvement to the repulsor technology. See, here…”

And Tony lost himself in a lengthy explanation involving physics Loki understood, and other physics he wasn’t sure he could explain, even to Bruce. Not once did Loki ask for him to stop, though, and all his questions only prompted Tony to show him more of his work, and fall further for the bright young man seducing him with formulas and brilliant interrogations.

“I’m happy you’re having fun,” Loki said once he was done.

“Yes, well…”

Tony bit down his lip, busying himself with rearranging his tools around. Loki had avoided him, too, in his own way. But right now he stared at him with the same intent he had that night two weeks ago.

Damn it. Tony tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. That was only a phase; it would pass. Loki would meet someone his own age, _he_ would hopefully get knocked out long enough to forget about this newfound perversion and everything would go back to normal. Right.

Should they talk about it now? Something in Loki’s face said they should, but Tony was still mustering his courage for that particular conversation. Coward! screamed his inner Steve.

“So, how did it go, cupcake?” he prompted after a lengthy silence. With a flick of the wrist, he closed the holographic interface of the project.

“Ok, I guess.” Loki leaned against the doorframe and ran a hand through his hair. He was thoroughly disheveled. His lips were bruised, and a dark mark stood out at his throat. His eyes were wide and blown, and his lips–supple lips, kissable lips, Tony remembered before shutting down that train of thoughts and setting it on fire–were of a darker shade of red than usual.

Like they had been after he had kissed them.

Loki took a step forwards. The long black leather coat he favored twirled around his ankles. Undone at the front, it showed dark and tight pants–Tony mentally let out a string of curses–and a metallic green and black shirt. Half its buttons were undone, too.

The distance between them didn’t matter anymore; the air sizzled with electricity. Loki quickly licked his lips, then cocked his head to the size, like he did as a child whenever Tony told him stories of Jormungand, the Snake of Midgard.

Think, Stark, think!

“So, what did you do?”

Wrong question, he noted immediately. Loki’s lopsided smile tricked his heart into a few unhealthy somersaults.

“I’ve had sex tonight.” Loki cleared his throat and blushed. “With a man.”

Tony steadied himself on his desk and stood up. What did one say to that? Well done, my son? Did you bottom or top? Did you enjoy it, or should I go ahead and beat someone to a pulp?

Why do you look at me like that? The words got caught in his throat.

Loki stared at the ceiling. The bruise was made even more obvious on his neck by the long arch of his throat. Tony felt the need to go and get that man who had claimed him intimately acquainted with his fist. He told himself it was fatherly protection.

But then, no father ever asked himself if their son was a moaner with fewer clothes, or if they grinded their hips to seek relief. Tony shut his eyes and rubbed his temples, trying to get the picture of his hand cradling Loki’s pointy face and his lips crashing on him, kissing him senseless, out of his mind. He _was_ out of his mind. He was…

“All that time he fucked me, I imagined it was you.”

When Tony lifted his chin, Loki was gone. Tony sank down in his chair, exhaling softly. A single tear trailed down his cheek as his heart squeezed painfully.

**OoO**

Tony and Steve’s relationship had deteriorated over the last few months. Tony knew it wasn’t because of the Vibranium core; he had lived long enough to know that if something went wrong somewhere in the vicinity, he had to be involved somehow. Most probably at fault.

He told Steve as much, which ended up in many things being thrown across the room, mostly from Steve’s end of it. Tony wished his head had served as a target for at least one or two of them, but his lover–scratch that: ex-lover–had a very poor aim when it came to expressing his wrath for people he loved.

They had loved each other; of that there was no doubt. Tony had expected his insomnia to worsen with their separation, but things were never so simple, and so he slept like a baby the night after that fight.  

It took him a while to figure out that part of the reason he’d had trouble sleeping was because he felt he was cheating on top of lusting after a sixteen-year-old. He still felt like shit, thought.  

A couple of days later, they went back to their separate floors on relatively good terms. The next morning, when Tony found out that Bruce had spent the night in Steve’s bed, and not only for comforting him out of a sense of friendship. Tony told himself it was for the best, that Steve deserved better than a fucked-up _pervert_ like him. Not that Steve knew about the exact nature of his perversion, of course; nobody knew. Nobody knew how many nights he spent awake, pretending he had work to do but really much more interested in getting his minds off a certain green-eyed wonder.

The next battle against aliens downtown efficiently took the edge off his torment. Cackling like a madman, Iron Man smashed and punched ugly mustachio centipedes from out of space right back into space, diving and spinning with a glee he hadn’t felt in months. Fighting was amazing. He couldn’t scream that on the com of course, because it would annoy Steve, but it didn’t stop him from flying after every hairy centipede Jarvis helpfully pointed out to him. Fucking mustachio aliens.

“Don’t go after that group all on your own!” Steve warned him.

Tony’s fist went right through an exoskeleton of dubious quality. “What, me?” He was elated. In his element. “I would never steal all the glory, you know that.”

A blast from his other gauntlet reduced another centipede to ashes.

“I wouldn’t recommend a free fall at this height,” Jarvis warned.

“Ah, don’t be like that, pal.”

“One hundred meters to the ground, Sir.”

“That’s how I like to live, Jarv.”

“I think I’ve noticed, Sir.”

At the last minute, Tony twisted the armor protecting his very mortal body and flew back into the sky, seeking the last enemies his team hadn’t yet exterminated.   

Half an hour later, he came back to the tower exhausted but content. For the first time in a long time, he slept a dreamless sleep.

**OoO**

Months went by. To everybody’s relief, Loki was accepted into MIT in tactical engineering, a new branch in a domain Tony watched closely.

Nobody in the Tower had doubted Loki could make it; they had merely been worried about his newfound love for isolation. Not that Loki had ever been the social type per say, but ever since the party of his seventeenth birthday, he spent a lot of time in his room.

Neither Steve nor Bruce got a satisfying answer out of him. Still, the two of them convinced Loki to periodically come out of his cave and walk under the sun. They visited museums, did a couple road trips, and attended conferences that required participation on Bruce’s part. Loki always returned happy from their outings.

Natasha was her usual stealthy self. Tony could have sworn she knew about the kiss, and the attraction that wouldn’t fade on both their sides, but since he was still breathing, he concluded the assassin only suspected the truth.

Or maybe things were different in Russia. Yeah, and he was Santa Claus.

Tony and Loki didn’t spend as much time together as they used to, but the evenings they met in the common area had progressively lost their tense quality. They watched movie together or shared a meal, discussed Loki’s studies or Tony’s work.

They didn’t speak of the kiss again, or of Loki’s admission in the lab. They pretended everything was rainbows and unicorns, and for a while, it even worked. 

*

Tony woke up in his lab with a headache the size of Jupiter.

“Hell, Jarvis, what happened?”

His AI chiding voice echoed in the lab. Tony smelled smoke and melted engines.

“You were sleeping, and you needed some rest, so I decided to let you where you were. Sir,” Jarvis added after a pause, as an afterthought.

Tony grabbed the corner of his desk and got back to his feet. The room swarm, but he didn’t feel the need to throw up. Yet.  

“Do you mean to say I passed out and you let me to choke on my vomit?”

“There was no vomit, Sir.”

“Smartass.”

Jarvis’ tone took a cutting edge. If Tony hadn’t known him better, he could have sworn the AI was struggling. “You might want to go to your bedroom, Sir.”

“I just slept,” he checked the computer screen, “for five hours straight, so don’t go all mother hen on me.”

He padded towards the landing area and stared at the steel and iron ruins. Such a shame. He’d liked that new suit. And his cars.

“I would recommend sleeping some more, Sir.”

Tony swore as his little toe collided with a hammer. Why wasn’t he wearing shoes? And where was his shirt? At least, it wasn’t Thor, he mused as he rubbed at the reddening toe. Not that the God of Thunder had visited since the day he…

“Jarvis.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Please be so kind as to cut the bullshit. What aren’t you sharing with the class?”

Jarvis’ reluctance was an admission all on its own. “I don’t know what you mean, Sir.”

“ _Fine_.” He kicked the hammer, because it hurt and gave some relief to his pent-up anger. The fact that he didn’t know the exact cause of said anger didn’t help. “Fine,” he repeated. “I will retire to my room and brood a couple of hours. Will that make you more of a friend?”

Jarvis didn’t dignify this with a reply. Cursing his sassy AI, Tony dragged his sorry body to his private lift and slammed his fist on the control panel. The ascent lasted at least half an eternity. He exited the lift with a groan and headed straight to his bedroom, muttering about loyal friends being assholes and his own stupidity.

“Wait a…”

His bedroom door was ajar. Carefully, Tony pushed it the rest of the way and snapped his fingers to turn on the light. Had he forgotten one of those ugly centipedes? He hoped like hell that some kind of assassin was waiting in the shadows, because he wanted very much to punch something. By this point, he didn't even care what or who. 

There was indeed someone in the shadow. Sitting on his bed, achingly familiar. Tony felt his anger desert him in a rush. 

“Hello, Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The justification for "Explicit Content" should be up sometime next week :)


	5. Shades of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's next: the family's reaction to that 'little change' in their relationship. Clint, as always, has the wisest arguments.

Loki stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back. He wore one of those long forest-green tunics of which his previous incarnation would have very much approved, and a pair of thigh jeans that did a number on Tony’s rationality. His hair, now long enough to curl past his shoulders, was still wet from his shower.

Tony managed to think past the lust and noticed the dark smudges lining his eyes.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, carefully _not_ stepping closer. 

It was the first time Loki had come to his private quarters since his separation with Steve. Maybe he wished to talk about that? But the younger man kept silent, so Tony hurried to his wardrobe, intent on finding some shirt to put on before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

Loki’s words froze him.

“I might have been a trickster god in another life, but I am a god no more.”

Tony spun around, heart pounding so hard in his chest he feared the arc reactor would break. He had a question at the tip of his tongue, he was sure he had, but Loki licked his lips, both shy and sensual, and Tony just forgot about rational curiosity. “I am but a mere mortal, and I want _you_ , Tony.”

The needy groan that left his mouth spoke of indecent things and even cruder promises. Loki rose and came to him. Before Tony knew it, white bony hands were splayed on his torso. Demanding, and yet hesitating. All the hair around his nipples stood to attention. Damn, where was that careful distance he had tried to keep between them? 

“This…” he fought for a better connection with syntax and grammar. A little help, here! “We can’t do this.” He sounded panicked, and the more he talked, the more Loki’s lips thinned, but he couldn't stop talking, unsurprisingly. “I can’t do this, you know it. You’re my son, and if the others learn about what’s going on through my head, not that I ever claimed to be sane…”

Loki stopped him with a hand to his mouth, eyes narrowed to angry slits. Tony fought the urge to whimper and suck one finger in. Bad, Tony, bad.

“That’s the problem, don't you see? I’m not a kid: I'm seventeen.”

Loki shook his head, clearly exasperated by Tony’s confusion.

“Sixteen is the age of consent.” He leaned closer and spoke a mere inches from Tony’s lips, and his own hand on them. “As for the matter of our link, you know that I know that there is no biological constraint. Not a single…” he slowly let his hand fall, “drop of blood in my veins come from yours, Tony." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You adopted me; you all did. There is _nothing wrong with my desire for you._ ”

“What about how I feel towards you?”

Loki smirked. “If you fear Natasha’s wrath, you will be happy to learn that she approves.”

Tony’s mind went blank for a moment. If the biggest threat to his life had just vetoed the fire in his loins… “What about Steve? And Bruce?”

“They will all cope in due time.”

“Loki…”

“I’m not your son!”

Tony tripped on the edge of his own bed . Loki wasted no time in straddling, a panther pouncing on its prey. Tony rather wished it wasn’t such a turn on, especially when Loki was snarling like that.

“If it helps, think of me as the god Loki you used to hate so much. If we can’t have gentle, loving sex, I will be very happy with the angry version of you fucking me.”

“Don’t.” He couldn’t. It was… “You can’t say things like that,” he said weakly.

Loki arched an eyebrow. Tony had to fight the urge to curl a hand in those long wet curls and pull.

“And why is that? Don’t I turn you on, _Stark_?”

Tony’s eyes flared. In one swift motion, he flipped Loki on his back and pinned his wrists to the bed above his head. The fire he could no longer quench had spread to his chest, infusing his heart no more with blood but with want, a liquid yearning that pooled behind his eyes and kept him blind to anything but the gorgeous, tempting boy sprawled on his bed. _God_. As he had wished so often since that fateful night, he cupped that pointy chin and laid the tenderest kiss on his chapped lips, pulling back before Loki could deepen it.

“Yes, you turn me on,” he said roughly. Breathe, Stark, breathe. “And I feel guilty for it.”

“Then don’t. I certainly feel a vast array of things when it comes to you, but guilt isn’t one of them.”

“That’s because…”

“You’re finding excuses, Stark.”

“No, I don’t!” He fisted a hand in the sheets instead of roughening up the little devil grinning under him. “I want you to be happy, and there won’t be any angry sex in this room, do you hear me?”

“Then be gentle.”

The next kiss found them clinging at each other, mouths moving slowly, raptly. Learning. Loki licked his lower lip in a show of unexpected restrain. It was Tony who coaxed his mouth open and gently wrapped his tongue around his, drinking in his taste until he was thoroughly drunk with it. Keening sounds sung to him; Loki, who melted under his attention.

Long fingers roamed on his chest, pinching his nipples. Tony arched his back and groaned into his mouth, sucking on the wetness that was Loki’s tongue. He had known that part of his chest was sensitive, but that particular touch just felt like magic.

 “I want you so much.” Loki’s voice was roughened by pent-up desire. Tony let him use his thigh as a friction point, relishing in how clingy and desperate that single kiss had made him. The hard length pressing into his tight called to his own. Sweat pants were better than jeans for this, but naked was better still.

He slid down Loki’s body, amazed at his own flexibility, and lifted up the green tunic. Loki helped him with as much enthusiasm as clumsiness, and Tony had to kiss him all over again.

Afterwards, he spent quite a while discovering everything his hands could do over the line of his pants to gain more keens and moans. Loki’s nipples weren’t sensitive, but his right side, and the line under his belly button, certainly were, so he made damn sure to gave them sufficient attention. He also discovered that his name in Loki’s mouth was making him a little too eager to sheath some part of his anatomy into someone else’s. It didn’t take long before he, too, was rutting like his life depended on it.

“Please, Tony, I need…”

“Tell me.”

Loki turned his head sideways, trying to hide a blush, and brought Tony’s hand to his groin, still hidden to the view. Tony replaced the hand with his lips and mouthed avidly at the hard bulge, soaking the jeans with his saliva.

“Tony, let me… Can I suck you?”

Loki blushed as he asked. Tony let out a sharp exhale and tugged on his waistband with his teeth.

“Another time, sweetheart.”

“What are you-”

“May I?” Tony had his hands ready to pull his pants. Loki nodded, apparently silenced by whatever he saw on Tony’s face.

“Then lay back and enjoy, because I clearly plan to enjoy myself.” He paused to make sure Loki understood everything that was implied. “If at anytime you wish me to stop…”

Loki nodded frantically. “I… Ok. But, I, please, can you do…” He whined pitifully. Tony got him off his pants and laid a trail of kisses up and down his trembling thighs, nosing at the soft skin, breathing soft words of love. Loki’s cock kept poking his face, but he ignored it and hooked Loki’s legs over his shoulders.

“Wha…” Loki stuttered. God, those red cheeks and bruised lips chipped away at his self-restraint.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” Tony crooned, licking his lips in anticipation. “In case you were wondering.”

He spread those long, shiny legs even farther apart, salivating at the sight offered. It was his. God, it was his at last.

“I’m… Don’t…” Loki protested, tried to evade his intense, focused gaze, but Tony was stronger, and more importantly, he knew that Loki didn’t really _not_ want his. It might be misplaced pride, but Tony knew he was good at this, and he had never been so eager to please.

“Surprised to have someone beg to kiss your ass, sweetheart?” Not that Tony could imagine why someone wouldn’t spend a great deal of time eating at that pink ring of muscles. He chuckled at the spasm going through Loki’s body.

“Tony!” Loki almost sounded shocked.

“Shh…” He pressed a thumb to his hole, gently massaging it. Loki’s eyelids fluttered shut. Biting his cheek, Tony pulled on the firm, white cheeks, worshipping them with kisses, before diving for what laid in between.

“T-Tony…”

“You’re so good for me, Loki.”

He pressed a quick kiss to it before locking his lips around all that pink purity and _sucking_.

The embarrassed, wanton moan that left Loki’s mouth shot straight to his groin. God, that kid would be his undoing, he thought, lapping at the sensitive skin. He pressed those milky buttocks closer to his face, marveling at the deep, rich taste exploding on his tongue, and stroked Loki’s ass from the inside. He was happy for that babbling habit of his, for his tongue’s muscles clearly could keep up with his need to rim Loki senseless.

And he did rim him, softly and then rougher, driving his partner to loud and louder shouts.

“Why d-do you… fuck… d-do that…” Loki’s hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides, nails biting into his palms. “I can’t believe…”

“I told you I’ve _dreamt_ of tongue-fucking you. Is that so hard to believe?”

Loki’s hips jerked, pulling Tony’s tongue deeper into him. Tony seized the opportunity to reach as far as he could. Loki let out a yelp–please, Tony quickly concluded–when a finger slid along his tongue, stretching all that gorgeous flesh.  

“Come, come.” Loki panted above him. “I need you inside me, now!”

Tony finally lifted his head to give Loki a break. His tongue and jaw ached, and he wished they ached more.

“What do you want inside you, sweetie?”

“Don’t make me beg!” Anger flashed in Loki’s tone, prompting Tony to action. Slowly, oh so slowly, he brought his aching cock to that pink, glistening hole he had lubed with his mouth. Loki wound his arms around Tony’s neck and thrust his hips upwards, bringing their chests together. Tony’s cock slid all the way in.

Fuck, Tony thought, more than a little dizzy. He was in. Sheathed in Loki’s warmth. There was no turning back, Loki’s shiny eyes told him. Their next kiss was messy and almost too violent as Loki forced him into motion, grinding against him. His cock leaked against their bellies, and Tony freed a hand to collect a few drops. He promptly put the shiny finger in his mouth, tasting the heavenly creature impaled on him.

“You feel so good. Taste so good. So good, Loki.” He slowly drew back, then sank back in.

Loki decided he wanted faster; of course he wanted faster. Tony obliged and pounded into him, reassured by the pleased gasps that mingled with his own sharp exhales. Loki’s nails traced bloody trails on his back, future scars he would bear proudly. Tony fucked him like he had wanted to for months, fucked him like it was his only chance, and managed to put off his own orgasm until Loki achieved his.

“Tony!”

Loki’s cum painted his chest. Tony finally let himself go and spilled inside Loki’s hole, moaning his name between wet kisses, mouthing at his collarbone. That had felt good. Very good. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a red light flash twice. If it meant what he thought it meant, he would have to apologize to Jarvis.

"Feeling ok?"

Loki was deliciously flushed. "Better than ok." 

Tony cupped his jaw, brushing the line of bone and wishing he could actually memorize that face in as much details as the reality allowed.

Green eyes, shiny eyes, wondrous eyes. The God Loki’s eyes had held power too, a power almost as strong as the one wielded by that seventeen-year-old wonder of a human. They had but one and the same face, but their expression showed such contradictory volitions that Tony could only mentally slap himself for his blindness. 

His Loki wasn’t _Loki_ … His Loki… _His_ Loki…

“You’re thinking too much,” murmured a breathless voice against his jaw. “And I love you.”

“I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Loki chuckled, trailing his hand between his cheeks, where Tony’s seed pooled and stained the sheet.

His cock twitched in interest. Down, Tony thought with a snarl. Go to sleep.

“ _I_ love you, Loki. And I will love you whatever happens.”

“I know.”

Loki fell asleep a few minutes later, a muscled arm wrapped around his side. Tony caressed him almost without thinking, mind full of questions and answers completely unrelated to each other.

He felt at peace, somehow. Even if the universe–i.e. Odin–had a very, very peculiar sense of humor. He wondered what Thor would think of their new relationship. Then he decided that he didn’t care and smiled, entirely happy for the first time in a very long time.

Another chance. Yes, that was most certainly what Loki had been offered. And Tony, too.

“I love you,” he murmured against his nape. “I love you so very much.”

He had never used those words lightly, not even with Pepper, but with Loki, it was _right_.


	6. Family Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, another chapter! This story's almost done now... I'm sort of sad. Hope you like it (not the fact that I'm sad, obviously)!

Tony woke up with the weight of guilt in his belly. One look at the raven-haired naked youth on the other side of his four-poster bed reminded him of why, exactly, he should be punched in the face for a living. Swearing under his breath, he tried to get out of bed, but a hand caught his wrist, forcing him to stay put or get hurt in the process of prying himself free.

An emerald eye shone beneath long lashes. The need to kiss the mouth not too far away was almost too much to bear.

“Tony.” Loki’s voice, soft and alert. “Don’t tell me you’re regretting last night.”

Tony quickly licked his lips. Loki probably saw the guilt gnawing at him. Tony could feel it recede, just the slightest bit, as if the storm of emotions in those green eyes had charmed a wild beast.

Words. Words. He’d tried to use those annoying things not seconds before.

“I was just… thinking…”

“Yes?”

Tony opened and closed his mouth at least three times before he remembered how to form proper sentences. “It doesn’t feel quite right, you know.” Don’t start and act with your dick again, he chided himself in the silent mess of his mind. Still, he couldn’t fight all his urges, so he threaded a hand in that black hair. He wasn’t quite sure who he was trying to placate.

Loki was having none of it. Before Tony could go on with his nonsense, the young man pulled on his wrist. Tony fell down on the bed, half on top of a lithe body he wanted to worship all over again.

Focus, Tony.

“What doesn’t feel right, Tony?”

God, Loki was _so_ pissed. Tony felt inexplicably nervous.

“I feel live I’ve taken advantage,” he said quickly. “It can be confusing, feelings, I would know…”

“And yet you know nothing of _my_ feelings. They are mine… And so are you, if you will have me,” Loki added in a small voice.

That pout was just too cute to resist. Tony went for a quick peck on the lips, but Loki smiled against his mouth and just shoved his tongue inside it, licking at every inch he could reach, and before he knew it, Tony was pinning him to the bed, using his own tongue to turn Loki into a wanton mess. The sharp nip at his lower lip drew blood, and Tony growled, suddenly intent on more, more, more.

So he had to stop. Distraction. He needed a distraction.

“Where are you going?” Loki asked regally. “Don’t you dare leave me like that.”

Tony’s eyes were immediately drawn to the twitching cock against his milky belly. Saliva pooled in his mouth. God, he was so gorgeous, his lov…

“Listen, Loki…”

“No, you listen!”

And so Tony listened, for at least half an hour, as Loki mercilessly refuted every single one of his arguments. Age was not a factor, and neither was their initial relationship, because if that was the case, then Loki was seriously not related to anyone but Thor.

“How do you know about your… former link to him?” Tony said once he could get a word in. “I meant to ask you last night, but I was…”

“… distracted? Come on, Tony. The resemblance is striking enough for even little _moi_ to notice. And you should know that my former brother is quite vulnerable to large amounts of alcohol.”

“You…” Tony’s eyes widened. Then a roar of laughter filled the room. “Oh, Loki…”

The young man cupped his face, smiling a tender smile that turned Tony’s heart to shards of glass. There was vulnerability in there, in Loki, in him, and a single word out of place could shatter everything that was _theirs_.

“Don’t fight it,” Loki pleaded. “If you reject me now, I will leave this place.”

“Lok…”

“I will leave this place, and wait for you to come to me, when you are ready. I won’t have any other lover, and I…”

Tony kissed him. It was a wild, messy thing, much like last night had been.

“Stop trying to manipulate me, you godling. You’re not going anywhere. You belong here.”

Guilt was a curious thing, really. One instant it kept him from breathing properly, and the next, it had blinked out of existence, subjugated by Loki’s assurance that he, at least, knew what they were doing. It was right. Loving Loki as he did was right.

So Tony spent the rest of the morning loving him all over again. Tender whispers in his ear, caresses down his spine, quick licks down the curve of his gorgeous, arched back… He dipped a finger at the clef of his ass and gently pressed in until Loki ordered him to fuck him already. But Tony hadn’t loved him enough yet, so he fingered him open with the kind of patience he hadn’t displayed in a very, very long time. By the time he pushed in, he was ready to come from all those little noises he’d hungrily eaten at Loki’s mouth.  

He made sure Loki came first. For a while after that, he worshipped every inch of his body. He stopped only when he felt like he would explode, and proceeded to get himself off all over Loki’s chest. He dearly wished he was a decade younger when his lover licked away his pleasure.

“I’m hungry, Tony. Shall we go and have breakfast?”

**OoO**

It quickly turned out that breakfast was not on the menu today.

Tony stood in front of the small gathering in the living room, his clothes not quite fitting, to say nothing of his red cheeks and all that wild hair spiking in every direction. This time, however, there was no cradle, and no Black Widow whispering soothing lullabies.

As for the green-eyed baby, he fidgeted stiffly beside him, a seventeen-year-old young man with sharp cheekbones, shoulder-length black hair and deliciously bruised lips. There was that I-have-been-ravished-and-I-loved-every-minute-of-it look to him that might, _might_ have explained why Steve, Bruce and Clint gaped wide-eyed at the two of them.

Tony had expected Natasha (maybe) to corner him that morning, because Natasha knew everything, but to have the whole team stand in their way… Tony suddenly wished he had worn his armor. As if he could sense his unease, Loki leaned over him, whispering the one thing he needed to hear.

“This changes nothing.”

Tony swallowed hard as Natasha closed the distance between them. She was clad in full combat gear. Tony thought he remembered Loki saying that Natasha approved of their new relationship, but he couldn’t fathom why at that moment.

“You remember the cradle, Tony?”

He gulped. Yes, he definitively remembered the cradle, and more importantly, the baby inside it. The baby he had taken as his son, and who now bore his hickeys as proudly as if it was a crown.

“Yes, I do.”

“Good.” The flashing smile was all venomous bites and terrifying nightmares. “Because I don’t want my baby hurt.”

“Я уже не ребёнок,” Loki complained.

“Ты всегда будешь _моим_ ребёнком.”

“Natasha…”

Was that an evil gleam in Widow’s eyes?

“ты также и _его_ ребёнок. Он назвал тебя так, когда занимался с тобой вчера любовью?”

“Прошу, достаточно!”

Tony felt torn between applauding Natasha’s skills at getting his son (fuck no, his _lover_ ) to blush and grinding his teeth in jealousy. He should be the _only_ one getting that privilege, thank you very much.

Steve, who had been growing increasingly red during that awkward conversation (Clint had certainly not helped, what with translating everything in his ear), got to his feet. Tony couldn’t help but notice the fists at his sides. That would probably hurt.

“BROTHER!” boomed Thor.

Tony winced; yet another person he didn’t want to bear witness to Loki’s wild night. He thought Loki would feel the same, but the young man only let an exasperated growl that reminded Tony of the other Loki, and somehow only made his love for him fiercer.

“I am technically not your brother.” Loki turned to Steve even as the warrior’s face decomposed. “And I am not his son, nor yours. Not by blood anyway. If you get to be angry at someone, please blame me.”

“You?” Bruce squeezed Steve’s hand. His face was a little green at the edges, but he looked calm enough. “Why would I blame you?”

“Because my desire for him goes way back.”

“But that’s not your fault!”

Loki rolled his eyes. “And why not? My feelings…”

For once, Thor seemed to pick on the hot potato fast enough. His eyes travelled between Loki and Tony. The pleased smile that took over made Tony nervous. “Are you and my brother in a romantic relationship?”

“Yes,” Loki replied.

Thor beamed; Steve’s red face turned darker still.

“You were a child!”

“From an Asgardian’s perspective, you are no more children than I am.

Bruce spoke in a carefully deceptive tone. “But you are not of Asgard in this life.”

For someone being judged first thing in the morning, Loki managed to keep his cool quite well. “I used to be, yes, even if I don’t remember it. I think that cuts me, and _him,_ some slack.”

There was the sound of someone clapping. Every pair of eyes in the room turned to Clint. If Tony hadn’t known better, he could have sworn the Archer was equally impressed and angry.

“You have the nicest arguments. If I hadn’t spent the last decade being harassed to play with you, I would shoot you right now, no matter how young you look.”

In one swift motion, he drew his bow and aimed it straight at… Tony. Natasha might have been the only one to say perfectly composed, as if she was merely watching the last episode of a TV show and considering whether or not she wanted more popcorn.

“No!”

Loki’s scream was by far the loudest. As soon as Clint had taken aim, he’d stepped in front of Tony, offering his–very–mortal body as a shield. Tony managed to shove him aside, glaring at Clint, but Loki was quite obstinate if not exactly stronger. Clint put his bow back in place with an exasperated sigh as Tony and Loki fell to the floor, each trying to subdue the other without hurting him.

“That’s so cute it’s disgusting.”

Steve looked positively incensed. “Clint! What…”

“What what, Steve? Thanks to me, we all know for sure that this Loki isn’t _that_ Loki.”

“Because he follows my lead,” Natasha added, before switching to Russian. Tony didn’t get most of it–he was quite busy wresting with Loki, after all–but this time, it was no baby talk. He fucking damn knew what death treats sounded like.

“Is that your very own way of giving us your benediction?” Tony was a little out of breath, but he couldn’t be blamed; Loki was busy trying to pin him to the ground, and that had all sorts of interesting side effects he didn’t want the general populace to know. Clint gave the best impression of wanting to bang his head on the nearest wall, and go through the whole Tower like that.

“Let me just say that: this whole thing is fucked up, and if Odin’s idea of a punishment is making my friend’s love life an easier one, and everyone in the Tower happier by proxy, you have my utmost gratitude.”

He muttered something about ‘bringing home way too many dates’ and ‘interrupting my shooting practices’ and ‘better used as targets’. Loki used the momentary lull in the debate to put back the coat of dignity and pull Tony along with him.

“There are too many shades of grey here to pass judgment,” Bruce told them, eying Steve.  

Their hands found each other; Tony was glad Loki held his. “So, what do we…” He trailed off, not quite sure how he should finish that sentence.

“Pizza, anyone?”

That was Tony’s cue to disappear. “I will be back,” he whispered in Loki’s ear.

A quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You better be,” the god of his life threatened.

**OoO**

“You did _what_?”

Tony had gifted Pepper with many pairs of shoes over the years. Save for their very expensive price, they also shared dangerously high heels. Their owner was currently using a five-inch pair as a makeshift weapon.

“You have been a jerk over the years, Tony, but this is a new low, even for you.”

Tony ducked fast enough to avoid the first shoe, but took its twin in the chest. Fortunately for him, the heel wasn’t quite as pointy as the blades by the kitchen counter.

Which reminded him to move farther down the hall, before Pepper noticed she had a better weapon at her disposal.

“If you just listened to me for a minute…”

When Tony got kicked back in the elevator by a still furious Pepper, he expected to find the Avengers waiting to give him a team slap, or something he would find equally unpleasant but certainly deserved.

The living room had been deserted except for Steve.

“I…”

“Don’t.” Steve raised a hand to silence him. “I’m doing my best not to lash at your right now. As a father, and a former partner, I really, really want to punch you repeatedly.

“So why don’t you?” His stupid mouth. Always ahead of him.

Steve pressed a hand to his brow, shielding his eyes from the light. It looked like Tony wasn’t the only one nursing a potential headache. “Because Clint is right: it’s not that simple.”

“I don’t blame you if you’re angry at me.”

Steve shook his head. Tony remembered a time when he would have sit on that man’s lap and showered him with kisses. He felt a pang of regret, but only because Steve had been hurt in the long term. He’d loved Steve, he really had. He’d also loved Loki, _as his goddamn son_ , but then his brain had made this awful jump and was he going to lose everything that had ever counted for him?

The headache roared with a vengeance.

“I am.” Steve crossed the room. Tony waited for the blow and was strangely disappointed when Steve only patted his shoulder. “Good night, Tony.”

So that was how Tony ended up in his workshop, drinking his ass off. He assumed Loki was with another one of his… parents… and wouldn’t want a drunken… pathetic… despicable… Even Dum-E didn’t look particularly impressed by his performance.

“What the fuck, Tony?”

He moved too fast for his stomach and sent the whole laboratory spinning. From a physicist’s perspective, it was amazing; from a biological one, not much so. Don’t throw up, he repeated to himself, panting faster and faster. Nobody will appreciate it.

 “Hey,” he said weakly.

Loki looked at him from behind a black strand of wet hair.

“Hey.”

He looked so human like that, so vulnerable…

“I’m sorry I made everything so complicated.” With my fucking dick. _Again_.

Loki laughed softly. He was so warm against him, all of a sudden, every inch of him pressed against every inch of him… He didn’t seem to mind his breath, as he kissed him thoroughly, with tongue and lips and teeth.

 “No, _I_ am sorry for what an ass that Odin is. But I am _not_ sorry I got this new chance at knowing you. Defenestration is not cool.”

“It was not you,” Tony slurred. God, he hated it when he slurred.

“I will get that for you.” With a sweet smile, Loki grabbed the bottle of scotch and emptied it in the sink, handing the empty glass to Dum-E, who chirped happily as he went in search of the recycling bin.

“You were saying?”

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re an ass. I don’t understand what I did to deserve you.”

“Those are contradictory statements, but you’re drunk, so…”

Tony blacked out a couple of times after this. At one point, he woke up in his own bed, Loki plastered against his side, an arm thrown over his chest. Gentle snores brushed Tony’s cheek.

Was that how it felt, to be happy? He tried to find the guilt, to provoke it into shattering his world once again, but it stayed just out of reach. As if Tony’s ways were roads too many times roamed, and better left to bloom into another landscape of contemplation.

It felt weird, to be happy; it really did. But he could get used to it.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Russian tidbits (I did my best, but Russian is my fifth language, so...) Thanks to Name for the correction!
> 
> “Я уже не ребёнок,” Loki complained. (I am no child)  
> “Ты всегда будешь моим ребёнком.” (You will always be my baby)  
> “ты также и его ребёнок. Он назвал тебя так, когда занимался с тобой вчера любовью?” (You are his baby as well. Did he call you that, when he made love to you yesterday?)  
> “Прошу, достаточно!” (I beg you, stop!)


End file.
